Starting Anew
by thebigj
Summary: Future fic, Rachel-centric. Rachel takes off to New York City after finishing high school, leaving the people and the life she knew behind. Her goal has always been to be a star. This is the beginning of her story.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Rachel has always been a difficult character, so I thought it'd be interesting to see her in a new environment, outside of Lima, away from the people she knows. This was originally going to be the first chapter, but I don't feel it's long enough and I think it sits better as a prologue. One last thing: please leave your thoughts! I would love to hear them. They help me keep writing!

**Disclaimer:** _Glee_ is not mine, sadly. I just play with the characters in the pieces I write.

**Starting Anew**

Prologue

The early morning was dark, serene. The earliest traces of sunlight peaked over the earth's curve, snuffing the final stars from the previous night. The moon hung faintly in the sky, taunting the morning sun to show its face. Just before 5 o'clock in the morning, few disturbances rocked the dawn. With a rumble and grating of steel, a train shot through the scene like a bullet. The tranquil morning was a jumbled blur to the passengers of the coach.

Rachel Berry lay, curled against her reclining seat. Her eyes fixated on the constant motion outside of her window. Lack of comfort had been something she'd expected from a five hour train ride, but the lack of sleep was catching up with her. Two days earlier, her dads had driven her from their home in Lima to Pittsburg, another five hour trip. Yes, they had stayed over in a hotel, but the bed didn't have the firmness required to send Rachel to slumber. From Pittsburg, Rachel found herself on the train to the city.

The only train option was a trip scheduled to depart just before midnight. Generally exhausted, Rachel did everything she could to try to lull herself to sleep. Unfortunately, nothing could suspend her tense nerves.

Rachel pulled her hands beneath the pillow cradling her head. The pillow was her own, not trusting the train to supply one or the coach seats themselves. She was nervous. This was the first time away from her dads and the first time away from home. To top it all off, she decided to forgo further education. She came to the decision on her own, as Rachel Berry did, and discussed it, in detail, with her fathers. She stood firm in her confidence that her talent could support her in the city. She would find a temporary job, audition in her free time, and make her way.

Sighing in defeat, she flipped her seat back upright and crossed her legs in front of her. The distorted scenes outside of her window were becoming increasingly urbanized. The train had slowed its pace, alerting the passengers to the impending arrival at its destination. Knowing that sleep had been taken off the table, Rachel began to run through the steps she'd take once getting off of the train.

She and her dads had come out to the city earlier in the summer. They had set up a few appointments to check out a few potential apartments, just to make sure they were setting their daughter up in an apartment in a well-lit, safe area. Her first few rental payments were going to be supplied by them and then she would be weaned off, relying solely on herself. They also moved a majority of her belongings out to the city, so on her one-way journey there would be less to carry.

Mingled with her apprehension was pure excitement. After that initial visit, Rachel knew the city had a firm grip on her heart. The people, the smells, the sounds, the excitement; when she and her dads returned home, she found it difficult to fall asleep with the lack of noise outside her window.

Rachel ran her hands along her arms, grinning to herself thinking back on the tears that her dads shed when they left her at the train station. _"Call home every day if you need to."_

"_If you want to."_

"_You really should."_

"_Stay in well-lit areas."_

"_Stick to the roads you know."_

Waving to them from her seat on the train, her heart had given a little pang of sadness.

The train came to a halt, jostling the travelers. Uncrossing her legs, running her hands along her thighs, she stood up, gathering her carry-on. Bag slung over her shoulder, Rachel pushed along the mingling passengers and then waited to make her exit. Shifting her weight with a sway of her hips, her mind drifted to her final moments in Lima. A ghost of a smile appeared across her lips for no one but herself. She'd said goodbye to those she'd grown closest to. Though a moment filled with sadness, she knew it had to be done. Cut the strings, start fresh. This trip, this adventure to the big city, was meant specifically for her and her alone. The big city was no match for Rachel Berry. A cough from a passenger behind her jolted her from her thoughts, reminding her to move forward to exit the car.

Rachel stepped into Penn Station and took a moment to take in the rush. Alone, amongst the bustling chaos, her nerves dissipated as they thrived on the pulse of the station. Her flats clicked along the tile, getting lost amongst the footsteps of the pedestrians along side of her. She couldn't help the grin that made its way across her face, noting the abundance of people out already at only half past five. All along, this is what she had waited for, lived for. Everything in her life was going to come to be in these next few months. Her dreams of being a star were so close to fulfillment, she could taste it.

Pushing through the doors to the street, the energy swirled around her, enwrapping her and making her feel at home. The business people rushing to catch morning subways, taxis, and quickly trying to get to work on time made the streets come to life. Though very different from Lima, all she'd known in her 18 years of existence, Rachel Berry had never felt more at home.

Nearly getting swept along with the foot traffic, she stepped out to the curb and held up a hand, "Taxi!"


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Thanks to those who reviewed and followed this story. I really appreciate it. Keep all that love coming! Please review with your thoughts.

**Disclaimer:** _Glee_ is not mine, sadly. I just play with the characters in the pieces I write.

**Starting Anew**

Chapter 1

Rachel slid into the back seat of the taxi, making sure to smooth her skirt around her thighs. She spied the driver's eyes patiently waiting in the rear view mirror. She grinned, dropping her bag onto the seat beside her and rattling off her apartment's address.

Her dads had spent the late spring and early summer months searching for the perfect residence for their little girl. In this decision, she had little say. They needed some place safe and some place not too far from the city. To top it all off, they would rather have seen her live alone than with some strangers. A series of appointments were set-up across a few days for the three of them to check out perspective apartments.

The first few rooms they saw horrified them. Entrances to the apartments were in dodgy alleyways. The apartments were located on an unlit street. A bottom floor apartment had no grates on the windows. Landlords and owners were exceptionally sketchy. Rachel watched as her fathers slowly got discouraged and it was gradually sucking the life out of her. By the time they got to the final apartment, the trio was ready to head home defeated.

The outside of the two story building was promising enough. Located in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, all of three blocks away from an express subway to the city, a little park greeted them as they rounded the corner of the street. The main entrance was at the front of the house and seemed to be well-lit. A little old lady waved to them as they stepped up to her stoop. "You must be the Berry's," her gravelly voice rumbled through her chest. Each went through shaking hands with the fragile woman. "Come on up. Let's show you the room," she turned on her heal, waiting for no one to grab the slamming screen door behind her.

Rachel sighed as she opened the door and followed the quickly vanishing woman through a doorway and up a flight of stairs. "As much as I love you both," Rachel started over her shoulder at her fathers following her up the stairs, "these apartments haven't quite matched my standards." She pulled her eyes back forward as her feet came to rest on the top landing. She muttered to herself, "I knew I should have been involved in the selection process."

"Well, here it is," the raspy voice called from around the corner. Rachel braced herself for the worst, but was met with a bright room with immaculate, shiny wood floors. She took a few steps into the room, taking in her surroundings. The room she stood in was spacious; the wall to her left was the front of the house with a large bay window. To her right was a doorway leading to a small kitchen; black and white tiles littered the floor. She maneuvered herself over to the doorway on the far wall, leaning against the doorjamb to peek inside. The bedroom was more forgiving with space than she expected. Her heart fluttered when she spied another bay window in the bedroom.

After a few moments of talking with the homeowner, her fathers walked into the bedroom to find their daughter standing in front of the window. "Rachel? Is everything okay?"

"This," Rachel said, for the first time removing her large eyes from the window to look at her fathers, "is my apartment."

Moving to stand behind Rachel, her fathers took in the sight of the city aligned outside of the window. The dimming lights in the sky had the city slowly coming to life, still abuzz with energy.

They left Rachel to crawl into the bay window, staring in awe at the city. Signatures were exchanged, a deposit was made, and keys were given. Rachel Berry had a place to live.

That was a month and a half ago. The taxi swerved through the traffic of the city. Though there was a subway close to her apartment, Rachel couldn't find the confidence in herself to tackle the criss-crossing map of the subway system on her first time alone in the city. Her eyes wandered around the cabin, falling on the "Passenger Bill of Rights". She smirked to herself, reading through them, noting how many her driver was breaking. The right to a quiet ride (the radio was on and he was honking at every turn); the right to clean air (the driver was smoking); the right to a driver who does not use a cell phone while driving (so much for that). Rachel embraced the experience, cracking her window, letting the New York air flip her long brunette locks around chaotically.

Rachel sat on the edge of her seat, noting the familiar landmarks alerting her that she was almost home, to her new home. Coming to halt outside of her apartment, the driver turned his head back to her expectantly. She handed the driver a wad of bills, waving her hand, "Keep the change." She exited the taxi, bounded onto the sidewalk, and up the stairs. She pulled the keys from her bag. _These keys are mine. I have my own keys!_ She jingled them to herself, allowing her entrance to the shared main hallway.

Mrs. Hannaford, the gravelly voiced owner, greeted her in the corridor, clinging to her door. "You here for good this time, Rachel?" A puff of smoke followed her statement.

Taken aback, surprised to be greeted upon her entrance, she replied, "Yes, I am, Mrs. Hannaford." She was hardly able to keep the excitement out of her voice. Her knees bounced with anticipation of settling in.

"If you have any concerns," a stubby cigarette was brought to her lips, sucked upon, and lowered, "you know where I live." With that, the woman retreated to the darkness of her apartment.

Rachel stood for a moment, wondering if her dads were secretly giving Mrs. Hannaford additional funds to keep an eye on their daughter. She cast the idea aside for the time being, moving to open her door and scale the stairway to her apartment.

Tossing her bag on the table to her right beside the door, Rachel took in her newly furnished apartment. Puttering around, not sure what to do with herself first, she retrieved a bottle of water from the kitchen, enjoying the coolness spreading down her throat.

She chided herself for not doing it the second she stepped foot in the apartment. She pulled her cell phone from her bag on the table, calling up her dads to let them know she'd arrived safe and sound. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Yes. I got to the apartment okay."

"Yes. I locked the door behind me."

"Yes. Mrs. Hannaford was there at the door. By the way-"

Rachel proceeded to question them about asking the older woman to act as a security guard. They denied the accusations.

Flipping her phone closed, she fell back onto the sofa. Rachel settled on the couch, curling her legs beneath her. She leaned against the arm, looking over to watch the city through her window. She couldn't help but hum the chorus of Sinatra's "New York, New York". Eyes heavy and body drained from her journey, she slid down along the length of the couch, succumbing to the inevitable sleep.

_My little town blues are melting away. I'm gonna make a brand new start of it in old New York._

_If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere. It's up to you, New York, New York._


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks again for the reviews! I appreciate it. Keep them coming. Let me know what/if you like!

**Disclaimer:** _Glee_ is not mine, sadly. I just play with the characters in the pieces I write.

**Starting Anew**

Chapter 2

The next several days found Rachel settling in to her new home. Her routine consisted of waking up at 7:00am on the nose and going for a jog around the neighborhood for an hour. Her elliptical couldn't make the journey to the city and it certainly wouldn't fit in her smaller living space. Jogging had been her exercise option. On her way home from her sprint, she'd pop into the little corner store to buy a newspaper. After returning to the apartment and showering, she'd settle in her little living room with a cup of coffee and the paper.

Once getting settled in the city, she needed to focus on finding an employer. Her dads were paying her rent for her first few months, giving her time to not only find a job, but to save up some money. Her criteria were pretty restricted and she was being picky with where she wanted to work. Rachel wanted something that allowed for flexible scheduling. In the coming weeks, she planned on being set up for auditions, so work could not get in the way of that. After mulling it over, she figured working as a waitress may be her best bet. With a highlighter in hand, she'd been attacking the help wanted ads each day.

A few interviews had been set up and all had been a bust. The restaurants had been spread across the city, from Soho to the Village, from midtown to the upper west side. She'd brought her resume to each of them, the paper littered with all of her musical past. Each interview harbored the same results. The interviewer eyed the lengthy list of musical awards and clubs, peered back at Rachel, and gave a shake of the head. "You have no restaurant experience," they'd say to some affect, "what should I hire you on?"

_Don't give up_, she'd tell herself on the subway ride home, _Rachel Berry is not a quitter._

One morning, large chocolate eyes scanning the ads, she spied one advertisement that caught her attention.

**Waitress Wanted**

Seeking experienced waiter/waitress

Full-Time position avail.

Aurora Restaurant - Soho

510 Broome St.

(212) 334-9020 – Ask for Frank

She dropped the paper and dialed the number. Soho was only fifteen minutes from her apartment, on a good day, via the subway. The phone rang twice before a shrill voice chirped in her ear, "Aurora, this is Abigail, what can I do for you?"

Rachel perched on the edge of her couch, voice firm, "I'm calling about the job listed in the paper. May I speak with Frank, please?"

"Yeah. Just a moment," the voice disappeared and Rachel thought she'd been disconnected before the line cracked.

"This is Frank," a gruff voice bellowed through her phone.

Rachel cleared her voice, "My name's Rachel Berry and I'm calling regarding the job listed in the paper for wait staff."

Rachel could nearly see the speaker lean back in his chair, crossing his arms, "Do you have experience?"

She paused, tapping her free hand on her bared knee, "Yes." The lie slipped out to guarantee the interview before she realized she'd done it.

"Come by this afternoon. Two o'clock?"

"Two works perfectly. Thank you so much!" She flipped her phone shut, staring down at it, still warm in her hand. She'd lied. _Nice work, Berry._ The clock read ten o'clock; she had a few hours to stew in the regret of her lie.

At 1:55, Rachel was leaning on the brick wall of the Aurora restaurant. She braced her hands on the warm building, breathing deep, bracing herself for another round of rejection. Except this time, the rejection would be doubly justified; she'd lied about having experience. She was snapped from her reverie by the squeaking of the door to the restaurant opening.

An auburn headed, stick-thin girl bounced through the doorway, cigarette hanging from her lips. A lighter appeared and her nimble fingers flicked it to emit a flame. The girl inhaled, eyes shutting, reveling in the cigarette break. She leaned against the far side of the wall, opposite of Rachel, letting a curling ribbon of smoke loose from her mouth.

She checked her cell phone. 1:58. _Dammit._ She tossed her phone back in her purse, pushing herself up from the wall. She smoothed her hands over her skirt and walked towards the door, her sudden movement catching the attention of the cigarette smoking girl. Rachel smiled and lifted a hand in a wave as she reached for the door. The smoker raised a brow and turned her head away, releasing another stream of smoke.

Dejected before the interview even began, Rachel stepped in the doorway into the dimly lit restaurant. She took tentative steps further into the waiting area, stopping at the host booth. She leaned over it, peeking into the main room.

Just around the corner stood a curvaceous girl, dark hair streaked blonde pulled back into an unruly bun on the back of her head. She placed silverware on a folded napkin and rolled the set with ease, tossing it into a bin filled with its twins. The motion came easily, obviously having done it before. Rachel rapped her fingernails on the post and cleared her throat, hoping to catch the girl's attention.

Startled, the girl dropped a fork on the ground, dark eyes falling on Rachel. "Hi," she uttered, bending to collect the fallen silverware. "You must be the interview."

"That's me," Rachel answered, clinging to the host podium like it was her life raft.

As the girl approached, she nodded to Rachel's white-knuckled grasp, "You going to be able to part with that post? We've got ourselves a steady host. Waitresses generally have to move around the place."

Rachel released her hold, blood rushing back to her fingers, "Yes." Her nerves had the better of her; her lie was crawling in her stomach, disturbing the butterflies there.

The girl pursed her lips and nodded over her shoulder, "Come on then. Frank is expecting you."

She led Rachel through the restaurant, painted a deep red along the walls, trimmed in white. Pushing through a swinging door on the far wall, she extended a hand out to an open door, emitting more light than the rest of the place. "Good luck, doll," she patted Rachel on the shoulder, urging her towards the entrance.

"Right on time. I like that," Frank said as Rachel appeared in his doorway. "Punctuality goes a long way in my book." A rush of air released from the overweight man as he sat back down in his chair. "Please," he nodded towards the chair in front of his desk, "have a seat."

Rachel dropped into the seat, bag propped in her lap. Her eyes took a glance around the room. In stark contrast to the rest of the restaurant, the room was brightly lit, though rather dingy at the same time. Paperwork was strewn on the desk, side tables, and tacked on the walls. The artificial light from a buzzing computer bathed Frank in an unnatural glow. Rachel's eyes wide on the man before her, clearing her throat, "I really appreciate you taking the time to see me."

"I need a waitress," Frank said, leaning forward on his desk resting on his elbows, "that's why I'm taking the time to see you." He peered at her over his glasses, "Do you have your resume?"

Rachel gulped, assured he could see and hear it, "Of course. Who would come to an interview without one, right?" She flashed a smile his way, but he simply waited there expectantly. Rachel Berry found herself in a situation she couldn't charm her way of out. Not worth trying to avoid the inevitable, she pulled the piece of paper from her bag, extending it towards judgment.

Frank pushed his glasses back up his nose, eyes running over the page. When his eyes reached the bottom, he turned it over, then back to the front. "I thought on the phone," he placed the paper on his desk, "you told me you had experience. Glee club and a national championship do not qualify as wait staff experience."

Her eyes remained focused on the man before her, breathing deeply, evenly.

"Ms. Berry?" Frank impatience called her back to reality, awaiting a response.

"I'm sorry," she started, shaking her head, hair rolling over her shoulders, "I need a job so badly. I don't have any waitressing experience. I've been looking for a job, but everywhere needs experience, so what am I supposed to do? Lying wasn't a good option, but it happened before I could stop myself." Her eyes flicked from his face and down to the floor.

"And now you've succeeded in wasting my time. Good luck in your search," he slid her resume across his desk, sitting back in his chair.

She chewed on her bottom lip, standing to pick up the paper and turn as quickly as possible to make her exit.

Back in the hallway was the curvy, silverware rolling girl leaning against the wall. She'd pushed from her resting position, standing in the middle of the hall. She'd been eavesdropping; her wide eyes told the story. A rush of embarrassment flooded Rachel's senses as she moved to push past the girl. Just as they were crossing paths, the girl grabbed hold of Rachel's arm, "Wait."

Rachel flicked her eyes to the girl, who gave a squeeze to her arm before releasing it and moving towards Frank's office. The door slipped shut almost all the way, only a little stream of light from the crack in the doorway illuminating the hallway.

Rachel leaned against the wall, fearing her knees would buckle beneath her. For the first time since being in the city, she felt alone. No matter the crowds around her, she was desperately alone. Her eyes began to well up. She turned her eyes from the office's light, cursing herself for getting so emotional. The city is what she wanted and she knew it wasn't going to be easy. The last thing she expected was for it to be so lonely.

"Berry!" Frank's voice boomed from the office, calling her back into the fire. She ran a finger swiftly beneath each eye, catching any trace of a tear that may have fallen. The door pulled open with a creak before Rachel could reach it. The girl stepped out of the office, allowing Rachel entrance with a nod of her head.

Rachel watched the girl walk back out of the hallway and into the main hall of the restaurant. She turned her attention back to Frank, who was once against perched on his elbows against his desk.

"I give you one chance," he bellowed, "and only one. You start tomorrow night at 5 o'clock. You show up on time. You wear the appropriate dress and you don't fuck up."

Through each of his rules, she simply nodded, her belly turning with excitement, "Yes. Yes, I will do all of those things."

"You can go now," he uttered, waving his hand to dismiss her.

She stepped forward and grabbed it with both of hers, "Thank you. Thank you so much."

He let her shake his hand and shook hers once in return, "Thank Abby." He pulled his hand back and went back to working on his computer.

This time, when she exited his office, her usual stride returned; head held high, pep in her step, grin across her face.

Standing at the host stand was her savoir, watching for Rachel expectantly. Rachel beamed, stepping forward to grab both of the girl's arms, "Thank you." She shook her head, "I don't know what you said, but thank you."

"Don't mention it," Abby raised a brow, her mouth twisting to prevent a smile.

Rachel walked to the door before turning back and mouthing, "Thank you," once more prior to pushing the door open.

"Don't make me regret it," Abby called out, halting Rachel in her tracks, "sticking my neck out for you."

Rachel smiled softly, "I won't. I promise." She backed out of the doorway, returning to the throb of the city.

The red head was still balanced on the wall, puffing away. Rachel strode past her, as the girl blew a wave of smoke in her direction. Not bothering to turn back to her, Rachel brushed the girl's actions off. She turned the corner, getting lost in the horde. Nothing could bring her down on this day.

Rachel had found herself a job.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** _Glee_ is not mine, sadly. I just play with the characters in the pieces I write.

**Starting Anew**

Chapter 3

Her feet carried her on a steady jog down the street, getting in her daily exercise. Reaching the end of the sidewalk, she jogged in place, waiting for a safe moment to dash across the street. Her muscles pulsed with energy, the familiar warmth spreading deep within them. From the moment she woke up that morning, Rachel was preparing herself for her first shift as a waitress. Everything she did prior to stepping into the restaurant was in preparation for that moment.

She rounded the corner of her street, her apartment building in sight down the road. Taking her jog to a sprint, she charged at full speed, burning through the nervous adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her arms pumped at her sides, eyes focused on her building in front of her. The moisture collecting along her hairline cooled in the rushing air streaming around her. Her legs felt like fire and she gritted her teeth as her apartment grew near. Her full out run slowed until she came to a halt at the stoop of her apartment. She steadied herself with a hand on the iron wrought railing, the paint chipping along her palm. Rachel looked up to the sky, trying to regain her breathing.

Mrs. Hannaford opened the door to step out onto the landing. "Takes a lot of dedication to run every day," she reached into the pocket of her deep purple, terrycloth robe, fishing around for a few seconds before pulling out a crushed cigarette. She eyed it accusingly before taking a lighter to the frayed end. Her mass of grey hair was pulled back haphazardly, stray curls breaking away at her brow.

Rachel smiled, not particularly in the mood for conversation, "I need to exercise. It's the only thing that wakes me up in the morning." She chewed on the inside of her cheek, dropping down onto the first stair to sit, "That and my overall ambition to make it on Broadway."

Mrs. Hannaford sat on a stair above Rachel's, being sure to blow her smoke away from the younger girl, "Your dads had mentioned that." She flicked the ash over the edge of the stoop, clearing her throat, "You adjusting to the city alright?"

Rachel looked down at her hands as they rubbed along the length of her calves. "I am," a genuine smile graced her lips as she peered over her shoulder at the elderly woman, "thank you."

"You seem like a good kid, Ms. Berry." She stubbed out her cigarette on the edge of the step, "Don't let the city get the better of you."

Rachel stood, appreciating the warming stretch of her muscles with the action. She turned to move up the stairs, stopping behind the hunched old woman, "I won't, Mrs. Hannaford." She pulled the screen door open to retreat to her apartment. She paused and looked to the woman's back, "Hope you have a nice day."

The rest of her morning and afternoon were spent cleaning the apartment. Granted, she'd only been living there for a week, but she needed a way to burn through her jitters. Rachel showered and dressed in black pants and a white t-shirt, the white collared shirt was being issued by Aurora. The uniformity of the servers was key, especially to Frank. Rachel had a mental list of things that Frank approved of. She knew lying was on the list of things he didn't. She didn't want to find out any of the others.

Rachel strolled through the doors of Aurora at 4:45pm, making sure to be early for her shift. A few other employees puttered around the restaurant, but Rachel recognized no one. She stepped into the back hallway, peeking into Frank's office. She knocked gently on the door frame, "Frank? I'm here for my shift."

Frank peeled his eyes away from the computer screen, "Ah, Ms. Berry." He stood up from his desk chair, wheeling it backwards. Rachel noted he cleaned up nice. The glasses were gone, his hair slicked back, and he wore black bottoms with a white button down top, to match the servers. His top, however, was accented with a skinny black tie that rolled over his stomach. "Come with me," he walked past her, motioning for her to follow, "we'll get you your shirt and set you up with Vanessa to start training."

A ripple of nerves shot through her stomach as she fell in step behind Frank, taking a left out of his office, further down the hall. She'd been mildly hoping that Abby would be her trainer, but her luck was out. Frank turned into the next doorway, waddling over to a filing cabinet and retrieving a white shirt. "What are you?" he called to her. "Small?"

"Please," she dropped her bag onto a table that sat in the middle of the room. Lockers ran along the far wall. Rachel figured that this must be the break room.

He handed over the shirt and placed a combination lock in her hand, "You can pick any of the open lockers to stash your things. The combination to the lock," he held up a little piece of paper, placing that in her hand as well, "is that. The bathroom," Frank nodded over his shoulder to a doorway by the corner of the lockers, "is there. Meet me out front when you're all dressed and ready to go." With that, Frank walked out of the break room, leaving Rachel alone.

She walked over to the line of lockers, picking an open one at her eye level. She stowed her purse and slipped the button down shirt over her t-shirt. She tucked the shirt and continued buttoning as she walked back to the main hall of the restaurant.

From the back hallway door, lodged in the corner of the restaurant, the central room was laid out. Neat little tables were arranged in rows, all lit with a single candle at the center of the table. On the left hand side of the wall, the bar was erected, the shelves behind holding every kind of liquor known to man. On the other side of the wall, there was also a function room that could be rented out for parties or gatherings. When it wasn't being used as such, on particularly busy nights, it was opened up to serve as another dining hall. The walls a ruby red, the trim a brilliant white, and the wooden furniture modern and dark, the dim restaurant had a romantic appeal to it.

"Berry!" Frank's voice called to her from the bar. The other servers were gathered around him. The staff tonight consisted of Frank, the auburn haired, cigarette smoking, rude girl from the day of her interview, three other servers, a bartender, and a pair of hosts. As Rachel approached, Frank began the introduction, "Guys, this is our new server, Rachel Berry."

A mumble of "hey"s and "hello"s murmured through the little group.

"She is in training tonight, so she's going to be shadowing Vanessa until she learns the ropes to survive alone," he eyed each of his employees. "Help her out if you see her struggling," Frank paused, "she's never done this before."

Rachel inwardly cringed. Part of her wished the last part had gone unsaid. She didn't want pity from them and she didn't want them judging her on her lack of experience.

"It's nice to meet all of you," she waved a hand quickly, "and I really look forward to working with each of you."

They seemed friendly enough, all passing a smile as the group disbanded. The auburn haired girl stayed put with Frank.

Frank handed over a black half-apron to Rachel, "Vanessa, here, is the one to train with. She's the veteran."

Rachel's stomach dropped as a smirk fell across the face of Vanessa, formerly the auburn headed girl. "It's going to be fun," her voice warned, "you stay close now." She got up and moved down the bar.

Rachel quickly tied her apron around her back, moving to stay with her.

Vanessa carried her attitude with her for the first hour of Rachel's shift. Everything Rachel said she wished she could have taken back. Vanessa was snippy, short, and made Rachel feel like her questions were a waste of time.

"Do you have something to write down orders?" Rachel had asked, which seemed to be a fair question.

Vanessa had sighed and dipped behind the bar, pulling a little leather notepad from a bottom drawer, "Eventually, you won't need that. If you'd had experience, you wouldn't."

Rachel's pride had been stung, unnecessarily.

Once six o'clock hit and customers flooded the restaurant, Vanessa's attitude was touch-and-go. She had to be nice when the customers were around, so Rachel did everything in her power to ask questions when customers were within earshot. However, when they ducked into the supply room or break room, the attitude was back with a vengeance.

Rachel didn't deal with the customers alone. She took a few drink orders and brought a few dishes out to the patrons, but Vanessa or Frank was always nearby to watch her, observe her, watch for her to slip up. All of this added up and caused Rachel's nerves to be tense. Her anxiety was running high.

At 11 o'clock, Rachel stepped up to the bar and rattled of a drink order to Gerry, the rather jovial and personable bartender. He was Hispanic and very easy on the eyes. His dark skin was the color of caramel, eyes a deep green. The bar was quiet on this particular night and she'd taken advantage to brace her hands on the counter, watching the clock. Just another hour before the kitchen closed, and then another before the restaurant shut its doors. Someone sat down at a seat two over from where she stood, which shook her mind back to reality.

"You're doing fine, you know," a voice spoke quietly in her direction.

Rachel snapped her head towards the voice, coming to find Abby to be the most recent visitor of the bar. Her streaked hair ran over her shoulders, straight as an arrow. Dressed in street clothes, the girl was obviously not working tonight. "I don't know if I can do this," Rachel confessed quietly, moving over one spot to be that much closer to Abby and keep their conversation hushed.

"Vanessa is a pistol," Abby said matter-of-factly. She waved to Gerry, requesting his presence, "When you have a minute, Gerry!" The bartender was in the middle of two customers. She turned her attention back to Rachel, dropping her voice once again, "She's a bitch, actually." Abby glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one else was in earshot, "You're doing fine, especially for someone who's never done this before. Just breathe. Frank is testing you by putting you with her. You make it through training with her on your first night of being a waitress," she flashed a smile, "and you'll be better than half of our current employees."

Gerry slid a bottle of Heineken in front of Abby. "For you girl," he nodded his head, "you enjoy your night off." He walked back down the bar to place a tray with two drinks in front of Rachel, "And for your table, pretty girl."

"Thank you, Gerry," Rachel said, Abby's words giving her a renewed sense of confidence. She pulled the tray closer to the edge of the counter and rested her free hand on Abby's arm, "Thank you, again. I don't know why you've decided to help me, but I appreciate it. I don't know if you know how much I do." Rachel lifted the tray, doing her best to balance it with grace, and carried the drinks to her awaiting customers.

The rest of the night flew by. Rachel sucked up all the information laid out by Vanessa. Just as before, Vanessa managed to bring Rachel down a few pegs, but when one o'clock hit, Rachel had survived her first night as a waitress.

Abby remained sitting at the bar, nursing another beer, quietly talking with Gerry. Their heads bowed together, Rachel was hesitant to interrupt. She'd clocked out for the night with a reassuring pat on the arm from Frank. "You did a good job, kid," he'd told her as he undid his tie. "Very impressive," he'd nodded and disappeared into the back hallway. As Rachel approached the bar, Gerry smiled in her direction, "Nice work, pretty girl. You made it, eh?"

"Yeah," Rachel nodded, "yeah, I did." A genuine smile broke out across her face, unable to hide her excitement.

"Told you so," Abby said, taking a final draw on her beer. She hopped down from her barstool, "Well, kids," she draped her bag over her shoulder, "it's been fun, but I'm going to catch the subway home."

"Mind if I walk to the subway with you?" Rachel asked quickly. "I just have to grab my bag from out back."

"Sure," Abby said with a nod of her head, "I'll wait."

Rachel shuffled into the back room to collect her things, returning just as quickly. They waved good-bye to Gerry, who was left to clean the bar.

The duo walked side-by-side down the quieted side streets of late night New York City, walking towards the subway to return to their respective homes. Light chit-chat littered the conversation as they approached the subway, asking about families, where the other lived, small talk. As they stood at the mouth of the subway entrance, slowly descending into the depths, Rachel spoke up, "Can I ask why?"

"Why what?" Abby volleyed back. Rachel raised an eyebrow to in response, knowing full well that she knew what she was asking. Abby laughed, shaking her head, "Alright, alright. There's just something about you that's familiar. You seem like a nice person and I believe everyone deserves a chance." Abby swiped her green subway card through for both Rachel and her. Rachel nodded a "thank you" and let Abby continue her train of thought, "When I heard him flat out turn you away in the office, well, I just thought that was wrong."

The conversation fell quiet after that as they waited in the underground tunnel. The first train to approach was Abby's. She stepped to the edge of the platform as the train halted in front of her and the doors slid open. She hopped onto the train and turned back to Rachel, "You're a good kid, Berry."

Rachel watched as Abby plunked down into an open seat and waved as the train pulled away. _Tonight was a good night_, Rachel sighed contentedly as she leaned against the tiled wall, waiting for her train. She closed her eyes for a moment and for the first time that night she realized how exhausted she was. A night on her feet, dealing with customers, dealing with a snobby trainer had drained the life out of her. The soft vibration of an approaching train had her open her eyes, spying her train coming along the tracks.

A happy smile was plastered across her face as she entered the train, took her seat, and rode the train home. The smile remained, even as she curled into her bed and drifted off to slumber.

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to the reviews and story subscriptions! Thanks to all the readers (I know there's a whole mess of you!). If you like what you're reading, please review. I like to hear feedback from everyone._


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